


On My Own

by starsandsupernovae



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Everyone deserves better, Gen, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, all the hargreeves deserves better, because no romantic feelings between siblings in this house thank you, because we are about recovery thank you, but like reformed, so it's different, vanya hargreeves gets a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-01-13 11:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandsupernovae/pseuds/starsandsupernovae
Summary: Vanya knows she isn't like her brothers and sister. She's not special. Well, not unless you count the whole choking up flowers situation....





	1. Chapter 1

It started off small. Nothing more than a breath caught in her throat, a choked back thought as she watches them suit up in their shiny new uniforms, the light bouncing off their glossy new masks and she sits in the corner, seated atop the stool swinging her legs back and forth.

“Are you sure?” she looked up at Reginald who is overseeing them all and in his face she sees what can almost be pride as he watches numbers one through six get ready for their first time out, as he watches his work pay off and how she wishes that just once she could have that look directed at her, that someone could once be proud of her.

“Are you sure I can’t get one?”

“I’ve told you, Number Seven.” His face turned stern as he turns to face her and she shrunk back. “You’re not useful to us. I don’t know how many times I need to remind you that you’re just ordinary. You don’t belong. If you can’t stay silent I won’t take you with me and you can stay behind and practice on your violin. Perhaps you’ll develop some skill.”

Vanya nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she straightened her back. She’d be silent. She’d be as silent as stone if it meant that she didn’t have to be left behind. She watched as Diego helped Klaus zip his suit up and Allison assured Luther that it was okay, they were all going to be fine while Five teleported from one end of the room to the other to grab his mask from Ben. The sound of their laughter filled the room and their chatter could be seen grating on Sir Reginald’s nerves as he clapped his hands and called for order. 

The noise died down but in Vanya’s ears, it seemed to play on even as Reginald gave his orders and even as they traveled to the site, a terrible and beautiful symphony that Vanya wished to join even as she begged for it to stop. She watched as they did their jobs to the letter, watched as they bantered and fought, watched as they leaned on each other for reassurance as they covered each other's backs. 

“The press will want a statement,” Reginald told her, as they watched them walk out beaming and Vanya heard him through a strange fog in her mind, a strange emptiness in her chest. “Wait here for me.” 

She didn’t see him leave, just appear next to the others as he spoke to the press, the masses of people who had come to see them, to see the special Hargreeves siblings who had saved the day. Vanya suddenly felt the wind despite her wool coat and folded her arms over her chest as though by doing so she could protect herself. Pretending it really was just the wind causing her chill, wrapping around her heart and causing an ache so deep it felt like it had been ripped out and been replaced by a gaping hole. But maybe if she held her herself tightly enough she could fill it and make herself all better and she would never again have to contemplate the gathering down below. It was funny almost, would even one person look up they would see her, a little girl all alone on top of a building. Surely that would be of interest to someone. But all these people, so many of them and not one of them would think to look up at her. She was safe to sit here, where all could see her and none would. She held herself tighter as the wind carried her father's words up to her.

“I have adopted six such children.”

She never knew why the words hurt so much. They didn’t say anything she didn’t already know. Was it the publicity? The way it was said, so simply? With such certainty? Whatever the reason the words hurt more than she could ever explain, a deep ache that settled within her and refused to budge. She tried to rationalize it but therein lay the problem because the words were so very rational. Had it been a lie, had she been special in some way she could have dismissed it but the fact was it was the truth. He had adopted six special children. And then he had made a mistake and had taken her as well. An ordinary, boring child. She watched them as they posed for the cameras, smiles wide and imagined for a moment what it would be like if she could be with them, if she too could be down there, smiling for the camera. If she too could help the others, if she too could be a real Hargreeves. 

A small smile crept over her face, arms relaxing as she got lost in her favorite daydream, finally finding something, anything, that made her special, and then she’d join the others. But just like all the other times, it was like hitting a brick wall in her own mind, stopping her from even dreaming of her greatest desire and even that was kept from her. Because of course, it was foolish to think she was anything but ordinary even in her own mind. 

She drew her coat tighter around herself to combat the growing chill as she noticed the sun making its descent. Surely they were almost done by now? She peered over the building again, steadying herself when she took in the streets below, empty but for the regular pedestrians and leftover police. 

She looked over her shoulder at the roof behind her before looking at the street below, checking once, twice, three times, because surely there was a mistake she had just missed them, they were still there, surely they hadn’t left her here as the sun was going down, they hadn’t gone home as it was getting colder, surely they hadn’t forgotten her on the rooftop while her heart beat faster, they would be right there for her. But they weren’t.

Her thoughts were racing as she circled the rooftop, not remembering how they got up there, not knowing how to get down. And would it be better to go down? She had no way of going home, knew no one and no one knew her. She couldn’t rumor someone into helping, couldn’t force doors open, couldn’t summon a helpful spirit to show the way. She was all alone and she could do nothing to help herself. She was truly useless. She couldn’t even stay on the rooftop, she should’ve just stayed home, should’ve just stayed with her violin. She had never before felt so useless, never before felt such a need to be better. She fell to the ground, feeling all her frustration well up in her eyes, hot heavy tears that her eyes could no longer contain, tumbling down her cheeks, burning tracks down her face as she heaved sobs because what was the use of holding them back? There was no one here to see them. There was just her and she could do nothing. 

The nothingness tore at her as she rocked back and forth, with her great racking sobs that turned to coughs as she felt the pain go deeper, the pain of wishing for what she could never have, the pain of wanting, of longing for what seemed to be right there for everyone else but her and she coughed and cried as the sun went down, tears falling and splattering onto the concrete of the roof, as she let it all loose, as she let herself feel it all and there was so much, too much to feel. The sun went down and her eyes went dry. She stilled, shivering and every so often would go into another fit of coughing but seemed almost unaware of it, drifting off into a state of sleep. 

In the morning they remembered and Grace came for her, all smiles. She stood, wiping away sleep and tears, and followed her home.

The rain washed away the tiny blood splattered white rosebud, barely grown, two days later.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Vanya.” 

Vanya looked up from her desk at the whisper, finger holding her place in her math book. Klaus looked back at her while in the front of the room Grace’s smooth hand drifted across the board, leaving chalk equations in its wake.

“Where were you yesterday? You missed dinner.” Klaus asked, curiously and Five moved to shush him but looked back at her as well, questioning. Vanya felt heat rise to her face as she looked back at them and shrugged. She wanted to tell them but she didn’t want them to know how useless she’d been, how she’d just been forgotten on the rooftop and couldn’t do anything at all. They wouldn’t have forgotten Klaus, Five wouldn’t have just stayed there all night. 

“I wasn’t feeling well,” Vanya whispered back. Klaus nodded, and Five gave her a look but turned back to the board. It wasn’t even a lie. She shivered slightly as a chill ran through her, shrinking further into her chair. It still wasn’t. 

It was just a cold she supposed, nothing she wanted to cause trouble over, or call undue attention to herself. Still, it was one of the nasty ones, the type of cold that hangs around and lurks in the body, waiting until Vanya thought she might be almost over it before returning with a vengeance and she’d be turning away from the rest of her siblings poring over the latest edition of their success in the press to try and cough up whatever was caught in her throat, to put on yet another sweater to try and keep in whatever warmth she must be producing. And yet sometimes, as she wandered the halls of the house, she felt that maybe she was as cold and lifeless as the ghosts haunting Klaus, or the statues Reginald put up in the garden. 

She’d pretend sometimes when she’d wake up in the middle of the night, or, becoming increasingly more common now when she simply couldn’t sleep at all. There was a pressing pain on her chest, shortness of breath and every time she’d close her eyes and begin to drift off she’d jolt back awake as her body tried to alert her that something was wrong, that it couldn’t get what it needed, that it needed more. She’d try to quiet herself by pretending she was a ghost, slipping out of her bedroom after everyone else was asleep and gliding through the halls. It was a big house and once she’d gotten clear of the bedrooms she no longer needed to stifle her coughing. 

She’d climb the stairs to the attic and stare out the window at the stars, or go down and let herself out into the garden, feeling the grass beneath her bare feet reveling in that small freedom she had. When at last she’d return to her bed, sleep would finally accept her, her small body exhausted beyond its need for normal breath. 

It was a routine of sorts and Vanya didn’t really mind. She supposed it shouldn’t have surprised her that no one else did either. Or rather that no one really noticed. Her schoolwork steadily took a decline and she spent more of her time away from the others, curled up in bed. If anything, they were probably happy they didn’t have her hanging around trying to keep up she reflected throwing open her window in an attempt to get in some more air. Still, it was only until she got better. 

It was a bright Tuesday when she realized she wasn’t getting better. She was getting worse. The sun was streaming through the tall glass windows, and even the natural gloom of the dining room at breakfast couldn’t stop it from flowing in, bouncing off their tall glasses full of water and filling the room. A record droned on, masking the whispers as Luther and Allison had a conversation only they could hear while Diego, Ben, and Klaus seemed to be kicking each other under the table, barely noticeable facial twitches the only indications of success. Five appeared to hold himself above such things but Vanya could swear his smirk wasn’t from whatever the lecture was on today, nor was his sudden glare in Ben’s direction. She watched them between sips of her water and forced spoonfuls of porridge. She’d never liked it, it was heavy on her tongue, tasteless and slid down her throat. She attributed the tightness in her chest to that at first, the heaviness of the food she detested. It wasn’t until it was in her throat, until she felt something hard, clawing its way up that she realized it was something different altogether and she was too late to excuse herself before she began to cough, big hacking coughs forcing their way from her lungs.

She felt her face turn scarlet, both from the lack of air and from the sudden attention as the others fell silent and still and turned to her as she tried and failed to stifle her coughs. They stared wide-eyed, clearly afraid of breaking the silence at mealtime rule and even through the pain and her rushing thoughts some part of Vanya, a part of her mind which seemed to be disconnected from the confusion couldn’t help wondering if it had been another if they would have disregarded it and been at their side.

Grace was at her side in a moment, handing her glass as she regained her breath and gently helping her stand.

“Come, Vanya darling, I think we should get you checked out,” she spoke with her ever-present smile, perfectly calm.

“I shouldn’t finish breakfast?” Vanya asked, torn between not wanting to draw attention, not wanting to be too different, and wanting to leave the room, not wanting to have to finish the concrete mix porridge bowl before her. 

“No, I think that’s fine. I’ll make you some eggs and bacon later. Special for you, alright, Vanya? But you need to come along now.” Grace said in return, a hard tone beneath the smile and Vanya was only too happy to listen, following along behind her without a look back. She didn't want to see the others all staring at her. Not that she’d needed to worry. They weren’t looking at her but rather at the bowl she’d left behind, the one she hadn’t seen, now spattered with crimson blood slowly sinking into the dull grey. And just slightly off center, brushing the porcelain edge, a crumpled white petal rested on top of the porridge completing the picture. Klaus reached out slowly after a minute only for Five to bat his hand away, knocking over his cup, water running over the table and onto the floor, and there they stayed, sitting in their places as the stream turned to a trickle and all the while, the record droned on.

 

They did a lot more tests then Vanya thought was needed for a little cold. Most of them were alright, but she didn’t like when they involved loud noises. She had mentioned it to Grace shyly once, and she had almost immediately gotten her headphones. That was surprising but welcome and they were very good. The tests were all necessary according to Reginald though who was very annoyed about it all. It was quite inconvenient for him, that she had gotten sick and he would quite like to resolve the issue as quickly as possible. He finally called her into his office after all the results had come back and she had gone, standing quietly and waiting patiently for him to notice her. It took until she had felt the dreaded tickle in the back of her throat and had to let at least a little out, coughing up red into her fist and rubbing it furiously into her skirt before he looked up from his papers, over his desk and saw her. 

“Ah yes, Number Seven. The sick one. Well, your test results have come back, I have them somewhere around here.” He made a half-hearted attempt at looking through the papers on his desk before looking back down at her.

“Well, no matter. The point is, we don’t have a cure. Not exactly. We have developed a medication that will stop its progress. Grace will give you your pill each morning. With luck, it’ll even reverse it. Just don’t stop taking it. Stop and it’ll just get worse. Just like it’s doing now. Alright?” Reginald went back to his books.

“Yes, sir, thank you,” Vanya responded although she knew she would get no reply before slipping out. She supposed that would be it then. She would just take her medicine every day and she would be fine. She’d just never stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed, sorry it took so long, lmk what you thought!!


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